


Sleep Song

by fairymuses (fairyminseok)



Series: Hotel Cynthus [2]
Category: Oh My Girl (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:58:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyminseok/pseuds/fairymuses
Summary: protection, A voice whispers, a gust of wind coming from the box in the stairwell and into Seunghee's sleeping ears.





	

The box itself isn't what's strange.

It's the fact that here Seunghee is, alone in the middle of the night in a flickering stairwell and there it is, just sitting there at the bottom of the creaking steps. She's out to head to the vending machines in the lobby for a late night snack, finding sleep difficult with the noises that come with buildings; the creaks and the wind and the sounds of the street below.

Seunghee blinks exactly three times, tilting her head to the side and staring at the box even as she descends the staircase towards it. She could just be seeing things, could just be imagining a wooden chest in the middle of her dorms stairwell, but the box doesn't leave, just stays in it's place silently.

Seunghee wonders if someone had lost it; Perhaps a jewelry box left behind in a packing rush, or a bit of junk that someone had placed in the stairwell to avoid taking it out to the trash, but something about it feels _off_.

It makes her nervous, the shift in the air and the slight breeze that flutters the tips of her long hair when she taps her nails on the lid of the box, drums her fingers up and down the sides. She swears she sees the lights above her burn too brightly for a moment, only to flicker even more than usual, and the breeze brings a chill that even a draft shouldn't cause.

"Do I open it?" Seunghee mutters to herself, nervous despite the logical explanations for the box, the wind, the light. Something _does_ feel off, but not in a way that causes Seunghee fear, just in a way that causes a slight excitement, one that sparks through the wood of the box and dances up her wrist.

She fiddles with the metal clasp of the box, running her fingers across the design before unfastening it and picking up the box fully, ready to settle it into her lap and discover its mysterious contents.

Seunghee never gets the chance to put the box down however. Before she even opens the lid the air crackles and shifts dramatically, and the breeze becomes a full scale gust, sweeping her off her feet and into the air.

Seunghee holds on tightly to the box as she gasps for air, tumbling and landing on something that feels soft and grassy beneath her feet. She stays still for quite a while, eyes squeezed closed and fingers digging into the wood of the box clutched in her hands.

When Seunghee opens her eyes, she's not in the stairwell anymore.

* . * . * . * 

Seunghee is sitting in a field of pastels, grass up to her head and flowers bent at their stems from the force of a strong wind that whips her hair around her face. She's in the same position as before, close to the ground with the box cradled in her arms, only now it's a beautiful ornate chest, marked with a seal Seunghee can't recognize. It isn't written in any language she can recognize, eyes squinting through the force of the strong winds and the curtain of hair now in front of her eyes.

Seunghee sits still in the grass, confused and disorientated until the winds calm, tall grasses settling around her with a kind of sigh. There's a hush now, without the noise of the wind and Seunghee blinks, surveying the surroundings with both apprehension and wonder. Getting to her feet and dusting off her shorts -- she's still dressed for bed, still hungry for that midnight snack -- she grips the box close to her and takes a hesitant step.

Seunghee isn't sure what to do first. Her choices appear to be clear, a band of trees marking the edge of the field and the curiosity about the contents of the box that flown her into a completely different world. She stays calm about the situation, a rationality taking over her senses as she starts to walk towards the trees, a seemingly large forest.

In fact, everything around her seems too big. The trees too large, the flowers petals the size of her hands -- soft to the touch when Seunghee drags a finger across the surface of one -- and the grass too tall. Seunghee wonders if she's shrunk, fear overriding her rational thought as she approaches the edge of the forest and leans against the mossy trunk of the largest tree she's ever seen.

She glances at the box in her hands, fingers fiddling with the clasp but failing to undo it. There doesn't appear to be a lock, but the box refuses to come open, staying closed and solid in her hands. Seunghee frowns, shaking it a little before sighing and turning her sights towards the interior of the trees.

It's dark, the width of the trunks and the size of the canopy leaves blocking out virtually all light, casting a kind of sinister shadow on the branch littered forest floor. Seunghee calms the shaking of her limbs, making sure to keep one hand on the box and one hand on the trunks of the trees to balance herself as she makes her way within.

Perhaps if Seunghee had been more awake she wouldn't have entered the forest so willingly, would have sat in the field in a bout of fear and confusion for the rest of her days, but something compels her to continue, the same _off_ feeling that had her reaching for the box in the stairwell.

There's even more of a hush within the trees, streaks of sunlight lighting the way for Seunghee to climb over branches and around logs and softer ground, twigs crunching beneath her now mud covered sneakers. She listens as she navigates through towards an unplanned destination for a sign of any movement, any life, but there's nothing aside from the sound of the blood rushing through her own ears.

That is until she trips, foot caught in a small hole in the ground. The box flies from her hands as Seunghee struggles to stay upright, careening forward with outstretched hands, ready to collide with the rough forest floor. Sunghee squeezes her eyes shut for her landing, gasping as sudden wind surrounds her and the same toss and turn feeling from just earlier returns.

Her hands hit cold concrete instead of moss and leaves and twigs, knees colliding painfully with the floor of the dorm stairwell. Seunghee's eyes fly open, head snapping in all directions to find plain white walls and flickering overhead lights. The forest and the field are gone, replaced by the familiarity of home and a throbbing pain in her left knee.

The box is nowhere to be seen.

* . * . * . *

Seunghee spends an entire week searching for the box. She scours her dorm building in frustration, checks the school lost and found and even her own room, but can't find any signs of the small box that had sent her far away. She even resorts to searching online, looking for stories, lore, anything that has to do with a strange box that teleports someone, but all she gets back are silly tales and Harry Potter portkey references.

Seunghee even tries going to the stairwell at the same time on the same day, creeping through the hallway at night and stepping down the stairs carefully, but the landing is empty, light flickering above her head normal as always.

Giving up she slides into bed to sleep, a quiet affair since her roommate abhors noise, especially that of the late night variety, and wonders if she'll ever get to go back to the quiet mysterious world inside the box.

Sunghee falls asleep with a frown on her lips, the creaks of the old dorm building that usually grant her peace only giving her worry.

* . * . * . *

Seunghee sits at the edge of a forest. She's bathed in moonlight, holding out her hands to see that her skin reflects the light as if she's a waterbed, shimmering patterns snaking their way up her arms.

She blinks, taking in her surroundings. A large field stretches out before her, one that seems to go on forever, tall grass and strange plants. It feels familiar, a dream world that she's visited before and it take Seunghee a while to realize that it _is_ familiar, eyes taking in the same forest as before, from when she's opened the box in the hallway.

"But this is a dream," Seunghee breathes aloud, hearing her voice echo in side her head like she's standing in a chamber. "Isn't it?"

Seunghee steps into the forest, fearful of the dark as she navigates over branches and around large trunks, but instead of becoming darker away from the glow of the moon, she notices a beacon of light trailing on the ground in front of her.

Her arms are still glowing, skin still glimmering like the surface of a pond under the full moon. Seunghee pauses in wonder, touching her own forearms to see what happens, squeaking in shock when her skin wavers like water under her touch.

"Definitely a dream," She mutters, pulling twigs and leaves out of her way to get deeper into the forest. She wants to get further this time, and without a box to drop her hands are free to make a path for her body to squeeze through, the light from her hands saving her from uneven ground and holes.

The wind whispers, a light breeze that speaks words of a different language into Seunghee's ears, a beautiful song that calms her but causes ripples to appear on the watery expanses of her body. Seunghee sings back to the wind, a gentle tune that it catches and carries away, until Seunghee can't sing anymore.

The world shifts around her, a sudden, jarring screech. Time skips.

Seunghee is sitting by the edge of a clearing, head heavy and arms no longer shimmering, but bathed in natural moonlight, brighter than before. It's beautiful, the grasses glowing neon under the moonbeams that illuminate each blade as if the moon is paying particular attention to each tiny life under its watch.

Seunghee feels moved, tears springing to her eyes at the spectacle of an empty clearing, trees surrounding and wind singing its song again. Dreams are strange, she reasons with herself, padding around the clearing rather than through it to respect the lives of the pretty neon plants.

Seunghee pushes her way into the thick underbrush again, but this time she's plunged into total darkness, feeling her way across the forest floor, palms scraping against wood and knees knocking against trunks too large to be natural. It's claustrophobic, the darkness, and Seunghee hates it, wishing to be back in the clearing with the lovely moon and it's glowing hope.

She trips and falls over a fallen branch, and the world shifts again, the scream of metal gears throwing her into another reality. Time skips, and the last thing Seunghee sees before waking up is a beautiful deer on the horizon.

* . * . * . *

Seunghee finds the box again a week after the dream.

 

She's afraid to open it this time, remembering her strange dream with it's darkness and beauty and surreal imagery, but Seunghee has never been one to push down her burning curiosities, once again seating herself in front of the box, smoothing her hands across the wood.

Except nothing happens.

Seunghee blinks in confusion, hands frozen on the box and knees digging into the floor painfully, before standing with it still in her hands. No tunnel, no wind, no transportation, just Seunghee, standing in a stairwell holding a pretty box in her hands.

She takes it back to her room, fiddling with the clasps and tapping her fingers along the edges, hoping that she'll magically be transported, that she'll close her eyes and wake up in the dreamworld, but nothing happens. The box sits closed on her shelf, a relic in her crowded bedroom.

Yubin snores from her bed.

* . * . * . *

"You should put the box back in the hallway," A frog says to Seunghee as she passes it's pond. "You only need to open it once for the dreamworld to manifest. That's why you keep coming back."

"And if I don't?" Seunghee asks, bending over to get a better look at the little creature. He's not pretty, bulging eyes and spindly legs sprawled out across a rock.

"The magic of it will never reach another."

 _The frog is wise, and speaks of truths_ , the wind whispers in song, guiding Seunghee into the trees and back to the clearing of pretty grasses. It's daylight now, the sun shining through the canopy mercilessly, warmth scorching even without much light.

The blades look prettier at night.

The deer stares at Seunghee through a break in the forest, and Seunghee falls sideways into the trunk of a tree. She wakes up on the floor beside her bed, disoriented and confused.

The dreams keep coming, but she never remembers their exact details, just the calmness of the wind song and the pretty, golden eyes of the mysterious deer.

Seunghee puts the box back the next day on her way to class.

* . * . * . *

Seunghee reaches the deer on the fourth visit to her dreamworld, waking into the moonlight with her hands touching its soft fur and its quiet eyes on her own. It nuzzles her fingers and stares towards the edge of what she can see, vision obscured by the tall plants in the great field.

_you will find it there,_

"I'll find what there?" Seunghee asks, traipsing away from the deer and out into the open grass. The wind howls out here and she can barely see through the grass and the gusts and her hair flying into her face.

_protection_

Seunghee doesn't know what she needs protection for, but deep within the prairie grass is a golden necklace with the tiny charm of a deer on it. It's gorgeous, shining in the sun that beats down unhindered and heavy in her palm, as if made of rare metals, of actual gold.

"It's beautiful," She whispers, tripping over her feet on the way back to the deer, who waits in the distance with the same stare. Silent.

The world shifts before Seunghee can get there, lurching her near a riverside where the trees sway with the current and the fish sing like the sound of flutes. Time skips and the river speeds up, but Seunghee keeps the necklace tightly in her hands.

The world spins, and Seunghee falls into the river.

* . * . * . *

Seunghee overhears a girl talking about the box the next day, eavesdropping silently to catch the conversation, to see if she's been to the same world, but it seems completely different, a fantastical tale of other people in the world, of castles and adventure.

Seunghee has never seen anyone in her dreams but the animals, but the deer. She wonders if there's a purpose, fingers tapping against the deer charm now around her neck.

She doesn't notice the car that careens past her and nearly hits her, or the man that slinks into the shadows and decides not to attack her. Nor does she notice when she nearly trips down the stairs at school where injury would be imminent.

 _protection_ , A voice whispers, a gust of wind coming from the box in the stairwell and into Seunghee's sleeping ears. She never enters the dreamworld again.


End file.
